The Letter by the Lake

On the quiet edge of a small village, there was a lake where time seemed to slow down. Every afternoon, Ayan would sit under the old tamarind tree, sketching the ripples on the water and watching the birds fly home. One day, while he was drawing, he noticed a piece of folded paper tucked between the roots of the tree. Curious, he picked it up. It was a letter. “To the one who sits by the lake, I see you every day, lost in your art. I wonder what you’re thinking, and whether you see me too. If you read this, leave a flower on the stone by the tree. If not, I’ll know it’s just my silly heart.” The next day, Ayan brought a marigold and left it on the stone. The letters kept coming, and he replied with small notes of his own. They never saw each other, yet their words were full of color, laughter, and quiet dreams. Over weeks, a silent love grew. One rainy evening, Ayan sat by the tree with a single red rose, his heart pounding. As thunder rolled across the sky, someone approached, holding a yellow umbrella. It was Mira—the girl who lived across the lake. Their eyes met, and no words were needed. The letters had already said it all.